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Medical Marvels
Medical Marvels is an encounter in Melody of the Maze. It comes after Gazing into the Abyss. Enemies *'Before' Plague Demon (1000 Gold, 112 XP, 70 Energy, 5 HP Normal, 6 HP Hard) *'After' Plague Demon (1000 Gold, 112 XP, 70 Energy, 5 HP Normal, 6 HP Hard) *Graslau (1100 Gold, 120 XP, 75 Energy, 5 HP Normal, 6 HP Hard) Transcript Introduction "Plague is bad, yes?" There's a frenzied series of low hisses among the crowd of kobolds. This confabulation lasts for several moments. Then the creatures look back up at the orc shaman - who stands upon a raised wooden platform, in front of a screen made of ragged animal skins draped over a wooden frame. A pitiful-looking plague demon lurches next to him, displaying a gaunt body even more ridden with pustules, boils red wheals and otherwise marred flesh than normal for his kind. "Yes!" one of the kobolds says. "Plague is bad!" The others hiss and nod in agreement. A few turn their heads to stare at you as you approach, but only for a moment. Apparently they deem the shaman worthier of their attention. "Then you want medicine! Shaman medicine! Graslau's medicine! Medicine that stops plague!" There's another period of reptilian rapport, of nodding scaly heads and flicking tongues. "Yes!" the same kobold says, again supported by a susurration of noise from his brethren. "But how do we know medicine is good? That medicine works?" "I will prove it!" Graslau declares. He reaches into his knapsack. When his hand emerges, it's clutching a leather pouch. He lifts it into the air and shakes it. The pouch starts to glow, drawing an appreciative murmur from the kobold audience. "Must use medicine behind the screen!" he continues. "Can't share secrets until you buy!" The shaman hustles the shambling plague demon around the screen, until the two of them are hidden from sight by the barrier of furs. "Quack quack alack! Alack alack quack!" The kobolds seem suitably impressed by the stream of shambolic gibberish that floats out from behind the screen. Reptilian faces lean forward in anticipation, forked tongues slithering in and out of their gawping mouths. After a long pause - in which the kobolds seem to hold their collective breath - Graslau steps out from behind the screen. "Look!" he says. "See power of shaman medicine!" The plague demon emerges. The kobolds gasp as he strides to the front of the stage with a light and springing step. There's a smile on his face. And his skin is pristine - unmarked by any of the myriad blemishes and disfigurements it previously possessed. "Now," the shaman says, "who wants to buy!" Hands reach into loincloths. They emerge clutching glittering coins. But none glitter so brightly as Graslau's eyes. Every saurian stare is fixed on the shaman and his cured patient. So only you seem to notice the hint of movement behind the screen - where one of the furs undulates slightly. "Wait a moment," you cry. You push your way through the kobolds, who hiss and jostle in protest. Graslau's eyes narrow. "You! What you want? Bad enough you kill me. Now you interfere with trading!" A spring takes you onto the stage, next to the annoyed shaman and his dumbfounded patient. "This orc is a fraud!" you say, looking down at the kobolds whilst jabbing an accusing finger at the shaman. "I'll prove it!" "No!" the shaman cries. "Don't-" But you grab hold of the screen before he can stop you, and hurl the flimsy article aside. The far-off harp sings out in a dramatic flourish. A second plague demon stands revealed, this one covered with the very same pustules, boils, wheals, and other assorted ailments you saw earlier. "Wait! Can explain!" the shaman howls. But the kobolds are already dispersing, shoving their coins back into their unhygienic hiding places. Graslau glares at you with burning red eyes. "You pay for this!" Conclusion "Stop!" the shaman pleads. "Make deal! You have trustworthy face! Help me sell medicine, give you gold! Lots of gold! Give you real medicine too! Not crap I sell to kobolds!" "Real medicine?" you ask. "Yes! Yes!" Graslau's heads descends and rises in a series of frantic nods. "Have good medicine! Cure plague, cure warts, cure-" "Can it cure a severed head?" "What? No, it-" "Too bad." Your sword slashes through the shaman's neck. The disintegration is slower this time. The orc's decapitated head has time to spin in the air before both cranium and body give way. Category:Melody of the Maze